


Home for Satinalia

by inquisitorsmabari



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, everyone being happy, finally reunited as they should be damnit, if they won't give them a happy ending i will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitorsmabari/pseuds/inquisitorsmabari
Summary: A Satinalia themed (written and published originally at Christmas) short, where Hawke thinks back to celebrating the holidays with all her friends and family at Kirkwall, because she always makes it home in time for Satinalia.





	Home for Satinalia

When Hawke was growing up in Lothering, the celebration of Satinalia did not change much over the years. Of course, they all grew up, found trades, friends, lovers, but they always made sure they came home in time for Satinalia. 

Mother would cook them a feast, or so they thought, the smell would fill their small house and drag them from their warm beds. They would laugh, drink and eat until they could eat no more. It was Hawke’s favourite time of the year, and the villages too. Everyone was cheerful, merry, they forgot the cold and the hunger which plagued every day of their lives. 

It was different in Kirkwall. When Hawke came home from a smuggling job on the Satinalia of their first year, there were no gifts, or songs, or dancing, just a kiss from her mother and a smile from Bethany. The loss of Carver, of their home, was still too much, there were too many empty spaces at their table.

Things changed on their move to Hightown, there were less empty spaces, in fact, there was hardly any space at all. Everyone was invited, Aveline, Fenris, Merrill, all of the friends Hawke had gathered in her time in Kirkwall. Mother had cooked more food than she ever had before, revelling in the chance to entertain once again. All that was missing was Bethany, Hawke had managed to bribe a friendly Templar to sneak a gift and some scraps into her quarters at the circle. 

It was the same pattern every year, right up to the destruction of the Chantry. The neighbours weren't happy, but everyone else was, everyone who Hawke held dear, these were the happiest days of her life.

As the two moons loomed over the great cliffs which encased the city state of Kirkwall, and the night drew to a close, people became to leave, slowly at first, until the stragglers stumbled through the door and eventually found their way home. All her friends were gone, all except Anders. Every year, the two found themselves in front of her fire, her mother watching over their shoulder, fussing over the dirt on his cloak, until tragedy meant she would do this no more, and they were alone.

Well, alone except for Peanut, her trusty Mabari, and Snowball, his ridiculous white stray cat who couldn't walk two paces without bumping into something. The first year without mother felt empty, but soon her Satinalia nights with Anders filled the void in her heart. The warmth from the fire, and the presence of her favourite apostate, made her feel secure.

Now, she was heading home again, returning from her jaunt I'm the fade, and her time with Varric and this Inquisition he had become a part of. They had invited her to stay, of course, the trip home was long and it would be cold, and she could've stayed for Satinalia. But she dared not, she had never failed to be home for Satinalia, and she wouldn't fail again, even if she didn't have a home.

These memories kept her sane during the long trip to Weisshaupt, they allowed her to endure the cold and damp, the aches from the saddle because, even if she didn't have a home, she still had a place to be, a place to be, and that was with Anders, in whatever hovel he had found to shelter in. She had left her guard at Weisshaupt, and thus traveled alone through damp and drizzle, her thoughts her only companion, until she reached their meeting point, a lonely tree atop a small hill.

And there she waited, the day ended and night closed in, the birds of the night sang their low chorus, and she waited, and waited, until the dawn threatened to rise again. How long would she be here? Would he even come? Was he even alive? The birds changed their shifts, the night owls leaving for their slumber, whilst the dawn chorus sounded from Maker knows where. 

“Rosa?”

She stood, startled. That was the name her mother had given her, but no one ever used it, only…

“Anders!”

And there he was, stood at the base of the mound with her Mabari at his side, wrapped in a thick brown cloak which obscured his rugged features. She may not have a home anymore, she may not wake up to the smell of her mother's cooking, or dance and sing with her friends in Kirkwall, but home was when her and Anders were together, and once again, she had come home for Satinalia.


End file.
